


What Fear Makes Men Do

by sekiharatae



Series: Behind Closed Doors [20]
Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: F/M, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-04-20
Updated: 2009-04-20
Packaged: 2017-10-12 11:42:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/124468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sekiharatae/pseuds/sekiharatae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is the 'lemon' version of the second chapter of <i>Deepground Evacuation</i>.  Cloud expresses his concern in a visceral fashion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Fear Makes Men Do

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt: The Sexuality of Terror, or, "Help, I'm Out of Control, Thank God!"
> 
> As this is the "lemon" version of the second chapter to _Deepground Evacuation_ , you might want to read chapter one of that first.

There are many different types of fear, with just as many and varied sources. Fear of being alone – ignored and shunned – had been a constant companion to Cloud growing up, all the more so because he lived with the reality of it everyday. Fear of failure was another with which he became familiar at a young age, his acquaintance with it growing stronger as he grew. When he was sixteen, fear of being helpless became another close friend, one that haunted him still: gifting him with nightmares in which he floated, paralyzed, in a sea of mako-green; or watched, a spectator in his own body, while another controlled his actions.

Although he was known several times over as a hero, he was no stranger to fear.

Despite the things he'd seen and done in his twenty-four years, however, his greatest fear revolved around his friends and family. Fear that they would be hurt, whether individually or collectively, physically or emotionally. It was a recent addition, one Cloud had only lived with for a few years, and whenever it struck he always found himself struggling to cope with the newness of it, with the fact that – in every possible way – this fear was just... more. Sharper, brighter, more angled, more urgent, more consuming. He hated it when Tifa or the kids were hurt or frightened. It scared him when they bled or cried or were sick. It had terrified him to find Tifa collapsed in the church after Loz' attack. Despite that, the sheer horror he felt when he arrived at the bar to find her bloody, nearly unconscious, and about to be gunned down was greater still. Every second it took to drive her attacker away, while her heart pumped blood out onto the floor behind him, was too long. Once the strange woman was in full retreat, he left Barret to restore order, and raced back to Tifa's side.

Relief engulfed him as her body responded to his use of materia. While he watched, bullets were expelled, and cuts and bruises faded, leaving only smooth, unblemished skin. A more intense glow gathered at her stomach, indicating internal injuries, but that too faded within moments. Unfortunately, the extensive healing took its own toll, pushing her over the edge into unconsciousness. He caught her close as she slumped forward, closing his own eyes and trying to force himself to relax. He'd made it. Tifa would be fine.

That's what he told Barret a few minutes later, when the larger man appeared in the doorway, and he repeated it to Denzel and Marlene when they came running in response to Barret's distinctive voice.

Still, it was worry fueled adrenalin that carried him through the next hour, as he and Barret worked together to organize the evacuation. The three WRO vehicles were large enough to accommodate everyone, but just barely. Tifa was placed on a makeshift pallet in Barret's truck, Denzel and Marlene earnestly promising to watch over her, but Cloud was forced to travel separately. That had, of course, been the original plan; but with the change in circumstances, he found it less than satisfactory. Much as he loved Fenrir and the open road, in this particular instance he would have preferred the stuffy cargo area and the press of strangers. Some part of him needed to see Tifa in order to believe that she was really alright. Instead, he made the trip to Junon with only his thoughts of what might have happened – what would have happened, had he arrived any later – to keep him company.

In Junon, Reeve had made arrangements for the evacuees to stay in empty Shinra housing. The children would sleep in the barrack dormitories, while the adults stayed in the nearby officers' quarters. Cloud and Barret claimed a small suite of rooms for their little family, and Cloud settled Tifa in one bedroom while Denzel and Marlene explored the other. Despite their earlier scare, spending the night in a new place was exciting, and they rushed around peering in drawers and closets as if expecting to find exotic treasure. When told they would be sharing the large bed, sides were chosen and subjected to a few test bounces that soon escalated into a pillow fight.

When the kids had exhausted themselves pummeling each other, Cloud made sure Denzel showered and changed into his pajamas, while Barret did the same for Marlene. Once they were tucked into bed, Cloud also said good night, leaving the older man to relax in front of the TV.

Although he was tired, sleep did not come quickly or easily. Stretching out beside Tifa, he kept silent vigil over her unnaturally still form. For the next several hours he held her hand, stroking careful fingers through her hair as he spoke softly of his meeting with Reeve, and told her how well-behaved the children had been on the journey. Anything he could think of to keep his mind busy, and to coax her back to him. It was after midnight before she relaxed from unconsciousness into normal sleep, curling against him and turning to snuggle her head under his chin. Only then, as her breath ghosted moist and warm over his collarbone, did his own tension begin to subside. She really would be alright. Letting that thought sink in and take hold, he succumbed to slumber himself.

So it was ironic, come the morning, to realize he wanted to shake her. Or spank her. Or something. He wasn't really certain _what_ he wanted, other than for her to promise never to scare him that way again. Then he wanted to kiss her until he couldn't remember being angry with her in the first place.

Instead, he got to watch across the breakfast table as Barret scolded her for taking chances, blustering dramatically, and she simply smiled and brushed his concerns aside. Shaking her jumped right back to the top of his list of things he wanted to do, and he bit into a piece of toast to avoid grinding his teeth, or saying something he might later regret. He hadn't yelled at _Sephiroth_ the last time he killed the bastard, and now he was upset enough – almost – to yell at _Tifa_. The very thought seemed like it belonged to someone else. Cloud honestly couldn't ever remember being this furious with anyone he cared for, let alone her. Frustrated and annoyed, yes. Anger, however, was generally reserved for his enemies.

Still... he _was_ angry. Angry that she had scared him, and angry that she'd been so reckless. Angry that she didn't seem to understand how frightened they'd all been. And underneath it all, angry at himself for scaring her this way in the past.

* * *

Tifa was aware of Cloud's eyes following her throughout the day, his glowing gaze flickering through a wide range of emotions. Foremost were fear and relief, commingled to provided a far more potent – though nonverbal – scolding than Barret managed at full volume. It was obvious that she'd worried him, and for that she was sorry; but not as sorry as she'd be if any of the children had been hurt.

Far more distracting were the passion and possessiveness that lingered in the depths of his eyes, things she was accustomed to seeing when they were alone, not shining there for Barret or Reeve to notice. Her heart beat a little faster when she felt that heated look, her skin tingling, body eager. Perhaps it was that which kept her from realizing anger also lurked in the tangle of his emotions.

Whatever the reason, it was dinnertime before she saw it. She'd been standing at the table, milk jug in hand as she refilled Marlene's glass, when Barret decided to start up again. The first time he'd done it, she'd been touched that he cared so much; but after a whole day of scolding she just found it annoying. Turning her head to catch Cloud's eye, hoping he'd come to her rescue... she instead found him watching her with eyes that burned with muted anger. Although a great deal of it was directed at the situation, some portion was focused on her.

Cloud was angry with her. _Cloud_ was _angry_ with _her_.

It hurt, and her eyes widened with surprise, prickled unexpectedly. Cloud noticed, his mouth tightening and his head shaking almost imperceptibly. Denying his anger? Denying her hurt? Denying her tears?

Abruptly she spoke, interrupting Barret's tirade, though her gaze remained locked on Cloud, words directed at him. "What should I have done differently? Let her hurt the kids?" She shook her head, placing the jug on the table with more force than necessary. "You know I'd never do that." Brown eyes held a scold of their own, but detected no softening in either man.

"Of course not, Tifa!" Barret's tone was frustrated, as if she was missing the point.

"Then what? What _are_ you saying? What do you want _me_ to say?"

"That you'll be more careful!"

"How?"

They stared at each other, neither backing down, until Cloud's quiet voice cut through the room.

"Why didn't you turn out the lights and stay with the others? Or wait out of sight in the kitchen?" Barret immediately subsided, mouth curving with satisfaction that the other man had finally said something. Tifa could only stare, open-mouthed, for it was a fair question. A reasonable question. And she didn't have an answer.

"I..." Her knees suddenly felt weak as her righteous indignation faded, and she collapsed into her chair. "I don't know."

Cloud's mouth quirked, just a bit, as he pushed his plate back and stood. "I do." Tifa's eyes snapped to his face, while Barret sat back in his chair to watch their exchange. "You got so caught up in protecting everyone else, you forgot about yourself." Hands flat on the table, he leaned forward, his expression serious and intent. "You're strong, and you've been trained, and you care so much about _everyone_. So it's natural to put yourself between others and anyone who would do them harm. But you didn't even consider that it might not be necessary." She opened her mouth to protest, and he shook his head. "Maybe it was and maybe it wasn't. She came looking for me," and his tone was bitter, conveying his sense of guilt over that, "so it's possible she would have kicked the door in regardless. I just wish you'd waited to see, instead of throwing yourself out there as a decoy." He straightened again, hands falling to fist at his sides, before unclenching slowly as if by conscious decision. "You're not expendable, Tifa."

The room was silent, both children too surprised to see _Tifa_ getting scolded by _Cloud_ – however gently – to fill the void with chatter. Then someone knocked on the door and the moment broke. Barret drained the last of his glass as Cloud went to answer the summons, showing Reeve into the small living room. As the WRO director began spreading out files and photos over the coffee table, Tifa finished her dinner and ushered the kids off to get ready for bed. When she passed Cloud he caught her hand, his glance asking if she'd be joining them. His gesture caused the knots inside her to ease just a bit. He was only angry because he cared.

"Fill me in later," she whispered, giving his hand a squeeze before walking away.

Once the kids were in bed and asleep, Tifa retreated to the shower, letting the hot water ease tight shoulders as she considered what Cloud and Barret had said. It was embarrassing to realize they were right, and she had been careless. Worse, she'd been dismissive of their concerns, leaving her feeling both ashamed and foolish. Knowing they would forgive her didn't erase her mistakes, or do much to soothe her nerves when she remembered the things she'd seen in Cloud's eyes. So she took her time, dragging out her shower and then blow-drying her hair to delay having to face either of the men. After more than an hour closeted in the small room, she gathered her courage and opened the door, only to freeze at the sight of Cloud. He'd turned the covers back, and was situated in the middle of the bed among the mound of pillows, propped up against the headboard. Like herself, he was dressed for bed, and she realized he'd also taken the time to shower.

He was also very obviously waiting for her, legs splayed out in font of him and arms folded behind his head. "I was beginning to think you were going to hide in there all night." He didn't turn his head as he spoke, but his tone was gently teasing.

She relaxed a bit more. "I wasn't hiding," she denied, "I was thinking."

At that he did turn his head, just slightly, and held out his hand. Hesitantly, she moved to join him, taking his hand and letting him pull her into his lap. "Deep thoughts?"

Snuggling close, her back against his bare chest, legs cradled between his, she shook her head, watched as he reached to turn out the bedside light. "More embarrassed than deep."

"Oh?" He spoke with his mouth pressed to her throat, lips brushing her skin. His fingers gently stroked up and down her arms, soothing more of her anxiety away.

"I'm sorry," she blurted out, and felt him still. "I didn't think. You and Barret were right."

Cloud sighed, wrapping his arms around her and resting his chin on her shoulder. "You scared me." A simple statement, no blame or accusation.

"I didn't mean to."

"I know." Another sigh, a kiss on her shoulder, and his hands were moving again, sliding down to twine his fingers with hers. "I never mean to scare you either." His tone was wry, self-deprecating.

"You haven't, not in a long time," she hastened to assure him, watching his long fingers rub along her more slender ones. "Not since you came back."

"That's good," he murmured, lips grazing her temple, well aware she'd spent far too much time worrying about him in the past. Still... thanks to his two bouts of mako poisoning, she'd always focused more on what he was thinking and feeling than on any physical hurts he might suffer. It took a lot to do him any real damage, and he healed so quickly the evidence of any injuries was usually gone by the time he got home, leaving nothing for her to be concerned over. So he couldn't help but think the kind of worry she suffered on his behalf had to be less nerve wracking than finding him in a pool of his own blood would be.

Whereas finding her in a similar state was all too real to him.

Releasing her fingers, he began drawing circles on the bare skin of her thigh with one hand, while she clasped the other between her palms. He gave a soft sound of pleasure and approval when she raised it to her mouth, nibbled at his fingertips. "Tifa?"

"Mmm?" Her inquiring hum vibrated around the finger she'd sucked between her lips, and he swallowed at the teasing sensation.

"Would you promise me something?" despite what she was doing, he kept his tone serious, yet soft.

She stiffened in his arms, let his hand slip down to rest in her lap. "It depends on what it is."

He trapped her fingers between his own before she could pull away, his right arm wrapping around her waist to keep her close. "Promise not to take anymore risks like that. Promise me you'll be careful." She was already shaking her head, and his hold tightened as frustration surged. "The woman who attacked you is called Rosso the Crimson. She's part of an elite Deepground group called the Tsviets." He spoke directly into her ear, voice tight with suppressed urgency. "She's an elite among the elite, Tifa. Essentially a SOLDIER first like Zack and Sephiroth, only she's been conditioned to be cruel all her life, and there are four more just like her." Although he couldn't see her face, he could only imagine her eyes were wide and shocked. He waited, wanting the facts to sink in on their own so he wouldn't have to say what they both knew was true: Tifa had no chance, alone, against one of the Tsviets. "Promise me," he urged.

Tifa hesitated, wanting to give him the reassurance he needed, but unwilling to promise something she wouldn't be able to do. Finally she bit her lip, sighing regretfully. "I can't, Cloud. I don't know what might happen in the future. I can't make a promise like that, I'm sorry." She waited, but he neither let her go nor pulled away. "Are you angry?" her voice was small and worried.

"No," his reply was calm, the brush of his hand against her side soothing. "I'm not angry." Disappointed and determined, but not angry.

There was a pause, both of them falling quiet, lost in thought; and then she shifted a bit, tilted her head back to see his face. "You seem angry," she told him, eyeing his profile doubtfully.

Blond hair brushed her cheek as he bent, pressing his mouth to hers and taking the time to thoroughly explore, despite the awkward angle, before withdrawing. "Do I?" Sword calloused hands moved, the right sliding inside the waistband of her pajama shorts and panties, the left moving to press their twined fingers against the seam between her thighs. His touch was careful, gentle, and so, so warm; familiar and hungry, but not angry in the least. That easily, the desire he'd stoked with his heated glances surged, and the tension lingering from the day before snapped, fear and worry shifting into need and hunger. She was in his arms, safe and alive, and wanted him to prove it to them both incontrovertibly; wanted to feel it all the way down to her toes.

Her free hand curled around his neck, fingers carding through his hair as his lips brushed back and forth over her shoulder. His drew random patterns on her thigh, palm resting warm against her belly. Their joined hands he guided in a slow, circular motion, caressing her core through the material of her clothes. Her nipples pebbled in response, sensitive and obvious against her thin top. Whimpering, she arched her neck, inviting the caress of his mouth as her fingers urged his to press harder, move faster. When he complied her hand slid free to fist in the silky material of his pants, leaving his exploration unhindered. Searching fingertips found welcoming moisture and she keened, drawing her legs up to give him better access.

"Ready so soon?" His voice was husky in her ear, his arousal obvious beneath her.

She nodded, then moaned when his teasing fingers withdrew to help her wriggle out of her clothing. Kicking her feet free, she raised her hips so he could shove his pants out of the way. Then he was lifting her, coaxing her to kneel across his thighs, her back to his chest. Carefully, he guided his shaft to her entrance, then slowly eased her down until she was once again settled in his lap, his length buried deep inside her. He gave her a moment to adjust to his presence, then strong arms wrapped around her, cradling her close as he reclined against the pillows. She cried out as the shift changed his angle of penetration, allowing hard flesh to press with new force exactly where she needed it. With her legs bent she had no leverage to move, and her excitement spiked, knowing it was the reason he'd chosen to take her this way. He'd wanted her open and helpless, utterly dependent and trusting. She shivered and he growled low in his throat. "Let me take care of you, Tifa."

Raising her arms she wrapped them around his neck, holding on the only way she could in this new position. His mouth was open and hot against her neck and shoulders, scattering kisses freely, occasionally gracing her with the scrape of his teeth. Warm hands cupped and massaged her breasts as his thumbs teased her nipples. She moved her hips in tiny, jerking circles, all she could manage, encouraging his thrusts; then moaned when he bent his legs and planted his feet to give her more. Fingers searched between her thighs, finding the swollen little bud there and setting up a steady rhythm. She was so, so close. Fingernails digging into his shoulders she arched her back as best she could, a pleading motion her voice echoed as she whispered his name...

... and he stopped. The pressure of his thumb kept her suspended, holding her there on the edge as his lips brushed her ear, murmuring a question, a demand.

Eyes wide she writhed in his arms, desperate and needy, even as she shook her head. "No!" her answer was little more than a moan, but the denial was clear. In response his fingers withdrew, leaving her wanting while allowing her release to subside. She mewled a protest, a plea, and he murmured wordlessly, palm shifting to rest on her belly. "Cloud," she begged, and was surprised when he buried his other hand in her hair, turning her head to kiss her with fierce, possessive passion.

"I want to hear you screaming my name, feel you clenching like a fist around me as you come," he whispered against her mouth, the words a promise. "But there's something else I want even more."

Still embedded deep inside her, he eased them upright, then ran his hands down her thighs to curl his fingers behind her knees. Lifting her legs he spread his own and settled hers between them, knees raised and pressed gently together. Her passage closed around him, tight and clinging, and this time they both moaned, his playing gently against her shoulder while hers rang out clearly in the otherwise silent room. Nimble fingers once more sought out her clit, stroking lightly as Cloud breathed earthy promises in her ear. "Do you want more, Tifa? For me to roll you on your stomach and give you what you need?" Whimpering she nodded, hands fisting in the covers beside them. "You can have it. All of it, all night long. Whatever you want," the words were earnest, coaxing, and she couldn't stop the way she spasmed around him, silently pleading. "I just need you to give me something first."

It took all of her willpower to shake her head in denial. As soon as she did, his touch changed from inflaming to calming, once again keeping the pleasure from peaking. "Cloud!" his name was a wailing demand as he shifted them again, her limbs boneless and compliant. She was a tight ball of desperate desire, knees together and tucked close to her chest as he leaned forward, pressing her into the mattress. As before, she could do little but accept, burying her face in the pillows as he strove to drive her absolutely insane. In deference to the submissive position, he kept his motions gentle, tangling his hands with hers and letting her squeeze, hard, with every thrust.

The buildup was slower without the added stimulation of his fingers, but just as steady. Scant minutes later her internal muscles tightened, telling them both she was close again, and in response she sobbed, hands desperately tight around his. "Tifa?" he prompted, the motion of his hips slowing fractionally, and she threw her head back, sob turning into a full blown wail.

"I promise! I promise, Cloud! I promise!"

His low growl of satisfaction came in answer, strong thighs shifting to push hers apart as his arm came around her waist, lifting her slightly to grant access to the throbbing bud of her sex. Her reaction was intense and immediate, lips parting on a scream as he sent her flying. It seemed to last forever, his body and voice her only anchors as pleasure surged out of control.

When it was over she was curled on her side, their bodies still joined, his shrouding hers in safety, arms tender and undemanding around her waist. His face was buried in the curve of her throat, breath a light caress against skin made sensitive through arousal. She shivered, whispered his name, her voice reed thin and shaky. "Cloud?"

Raising his head he nudged her chin, turning her head for his kiss. Mako eyes glowed hot and gentle in the dark of the room, empty of the fear they'd held before. "Tell me what you want, Tifa." His words were smoky and full of heated assurance.

She sighed, fingers sliding through his hair as his lips brushed her nape. "Make love to me." He'd left her tired, not sated, despite the strength of her orgasm. She wanted the earthy things he'd promised, and the sweet whispers he hadn't.

In the dark of the room she couldn't be certain, but she thought he smiled.

Languidly withdrawing from the clasp of her warmth, prompting a breathy moan, he turned her onto her back. Fingertips ghosted over her breasts and stomach as he knelt between her legs, then his mouth found her nipple, enclosing the taut point in wet heat as he lightly sucked and laved. Ever so slowly he sank to lie on his stomach, wrapping his arms around her thighs as he kissed and teased his way down to where she most ached to be touched.

His breath caressed her first, light and warm and ardent. Then came his tongue, a soft, firm pressure against her folds as he delicately sampled her arousal. Finally, after she sighed his name, his lips closed tightly around the frantically needy bundle of nerves at the apex of her thighs. Tifa arched off the bed, fingers in his hair, clutching him to her as if frightened he would stop again. Lifting his eyes to her face he made a reassuring sound low in his throat, playing the vibrations against her as he sucked her bud against his teeth, triggering her release.

It swept her up in a warm torrent, a gentle flood, pinning her against the surety of his touch for long moments. She panted for breath, her moans soft but constant, her mind dimly aware that his tongue continued to lap gently, soothing and savoring as the tremors began to fade.

Once she subsided, open and relaxed, Cloud straightened into a sitting position, legs folded between them. Then his palms were moving upwards, curling around her hips, and he was lifting her to settle in his lap. This time they were face to face, her legs wrapping around his waist as he slowly stroked inside, lingering spasms welcoming him home. His fingers framed her face as he captured her mouth, his kiss as gentle and claiming as the rocking motion of his hips. Folded close in his arms, her own twined around his neck, she could feel every inch of his length within her, every beat of his heart against her chest. It was languorous and sweet and exactly what she'd asked for: making love. Ducking her head she kissed his shoulder, arms tightening around him, and he crooned wordlessly in response, the sound at once both encouragement and comfort. Calloused fingers massaged the base of her spine, stroked through her long, tangled hair, keeping the tension low but building.

For all that the climb was unhurried, or perhaps because of it, her climax hit with unexpected suddenness, and Tifa muffled her scream against his throat. Cloud's answering exclamation of triumph issued between clenched teeth, audible only because he bent his head to play it against her ear. He pulsed fiercely inside her for long moments, body rigid against her until he finished with a groan. Too sleepy and complacent to giggle, she still managed to smile, and knew he felt or sensed it when he sighed.

Unwinding her legs from around his waist, he drew her with him as he settled amongst the pillows and pulled the covers around them. She snuggled against him, her head finding its way to his shoulder, her hands curled under her chin as she turned into his warmth.

Tifa was beyond drowsy, the beat of his heart lulling her to sleep, when he spoke.

"I'm sorry." Comfortable and unconcerned, she mumbled wordlessly in response. Fingers brushed through her hair, preventing her from slipping away into dreams, and she managed to open her eyes just enough to catch the glow of his too-serious gaze. "I shouldn't have made you promise. Not like that."

Those words woke her enough to shift her head, pull back from his throat to watch his profile in the dark. His mouth twisted in a rueful smile.

"It wasn't fair, and I won't hold you to it." Catching one of her hands in his he brought it to his lips, pressed a kiss to her palm. "Instead... let's _both_ promise. When whatever is happening comes to a head, we'll stick together, so neither of us has to deal with someone like Rosso on our own." She threaded her fingers through his, and he shifted his gaze from their hands to her face. "I'll watch your back, and you'll watch mine, and we'll both watch Barret's." That prompted a smile, for their friend was prone to being in the wrong place.

Stretching slightly, she pressed a kiss to his throat, and another to his lips, then tugged him down so he was no longer propped on an elbow, but pressed firmly against her.

"I promise."


End file.
